Nothing Short of Perfect

by Day Leclaire

  At the sound of its name, Emo perked up. “How do you feel?” he chirped.

  She shot Justice a look of supreme indignation. “I’m very, very sad, Emo. Sad enough that I may just have to wake Aggie and ask her to fix me a cup of tea. And it’s all your maker’s fault.”

  Justice held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I won’t dismantle Emo. Instead of giving his parts to a future sibling, I’ll keep him for the sake of posterity. Happy now?” Dear God, now she had him calling Emo “he” and “him.” How did she do it? And how the hell did he fight against it?

  “Yes, I’m happy now. Thank you.”

  She hesitated and he waited her out. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you.”

  “I’m not going to like this discussion, am I?”

  “Doubtful.” Not that that stopped her. “We need to hire some people to come in and scrub the upper two floors. It’s not fair to dump this level of cleaning on Aggie, Jett and me.” Then she got really nasty. “More importantly, having the house in this condition isn’t healthy for Noelle.”

  “Son of a—”

  “Condition One.”

  “Gun.” He glared at her. “You are the most irritating woman—”

  “Condition Two.”

  “—I have ever met. And if you don’t stop spouting conditions at me, we’ll go elsewhere and have a thorough and comprehensive discussion of my third condition. Are we clear?”

  To his satisfaction, bright color burned a path across her elegant cheekbones. “Crystal.”

  “Excellent.” He made an adjustment to Emo’s control panel while he considered. “As for the cleaning problem, of course you can hire anyone you need to help. It’s important you be comfortable here.”

  “What about your uncle?”

  He gave it a moment’s consideration. “I’ll have Pretorius run a comprehensive system diagnostic scan during the cleaning process. That will take us offline for almost half a day, which knocks out his eyes and ears, and should prevent him from realizing anyone has been in the house until they’ve already left. Will that be sufficient, do you think?”

  “Thank you. That should be perfect.”

  One quick glance warned she wasn’t finished. “Another issue?” he asked mildly.

  Daisy cleared her throat. “Not an issue, exactly.”

  “Please. Let’s be exact.”

  “It’s about your house.”

  “Is there something wrong with my house other than the level of cleanliness?”

  “Yes. There isn’t any place to sit.”

  Justice frowned. His one foray into the apprentice/wife waters had been with Pamela, a huge mistake, riddled with compatibility issues. Far from being the perfect fit the Pretorius Program assured him they’d be, they were perfectly imperfect for one another. After Pamela’s departure, he’d cleared out the upper levels she’d furnished and decorated. With the exception of his office, he rarely visited them and hadn’t bothered to replace any of the furniture. “No, I guess there isn’t.”

  “We’d like to sit,” Daisy said gently. “And, oh, I don’t know, a few extra beds and dressers wouldn’t go amiss.”

  “Would you be willing to order the necessary furniture?”

  “You don’t object? Considering the size of this place, it could get pricey.”

  “Will it cost more than nine-point-seven-three billion?”

  To his amusement, she thought it through before replying. “I’m pretty sure I can keep the expenses under that.”

  “Then I don’t object.”

  “Thank you.”

  Escaping her perch, she approached, her nightgown swirling around her, clinging to intriguing curves just long enough to give him a visual taste before billowing free, leaving him longing for another glimpse. Longing for a touch. Longing to have her in his arms and in his bed one more time and discover if what they’d experienced those previous occasions had been fluke or the norm. Although, he readily conceded, there’d been nothing in the least normal about Daisy or what happened between them whenever they made love.

  Finally, she spoke. “There’s something else bothering me.”

  “Other than the cleaning and furnishings?”

  “Yes.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth. “Do you really believe that when you experience a catastrophic failure and what you’re attempting to produce isn’t working on any level, you just have to throw it away and start over?”

  “Yes.”

  She spared him a brief, hesitant look. “You could say that our relationship experienced a catastrophic failure.”

  Huh. He hadn’t considered it that way. “I would consider that an accurate description.”

  “So would I,” she confessed. “And the morning after we made love you did throw our relationship away, at least the potential for a relationship.”

  She was killing him, bit by bit. “I tried.”

  “Maybe now we can start over, dig beneath our surface attraction. Maybe we could repurpose the good parts and get it right this time. Because there were good parts, occasions when we communicated quite brilliantly.”

  He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “I believe you called it amazing.”

  “I believe I did.” She moistened her lips, the only sign of her uncertainty. “What do you say, Justice?”

  He couldn’t resist her now any more than he could ten years ago. Or even nineteen months, twenty-six days, seven hours and two minutes ago. For the first time in his entire life he didn’t hesitate. Didn’t ponder and consider. He simply jumped, grabbed. Held on for all he was worth.

  “I’d like that,” he said gruffly. He pulled her into his arms. She walked into the embrace and enclosed him in softness and warmth. “How are you feeling?” he whispered against her mouth.

  “Hungry. Very, very hungry.”

  Justice swept Daisy into his arms and carried her from the lab. The sheer cotton of her nightgown fluttered around them as though dancing beneath a wayward breeze. It clung to the shape of her, allowing the sheen of pearly skin to seep through the material while obscuring the details. Not for long. He intended to have her in his bed and naked within the next thirty seconds. Less, if at all possible.

  He shouldered open the door to his bedroom. “Lights,” he ordered. “Low wattage.”

  The bedside table lights flickered to life, sending a soft glow across her features. She was so beautiful, her eyes a deep, shadowed green, reflecting an unstinting passion. So open. So generous. So giving.

  He realized in that endless moment that he didn’t want to rush. Time no longer held any meaning, which he found vaguely bewildering. All that mattered was giving her pleasure. He set her on the bed and came down beside her. Cupping her face, he lifted it to his. And then he took her mouth. He held himself back, intent on making each second as memorable as possible. A quiet sigh escaped her, one of sheer joy, and in that moment he felt a happiness and contentment he hadn’t experienced since the last time he had her in his arms and in his bed.

  Maybe it was because of the extent of his own satisfaction that he realized he couldn’t make love with her under the current circumstances. When they came together it wouldn’t be due to conditions or obligation, but because it was what they both wanted.

  Even so, that didn’t keep him from stroking the curve of her cheek before drawing back. “You don’t have to stay, if you’d rather not. I rescind my third condition.”

  Laughter glittered in her eyes. “I really wish you wouldn’t.”

  She’d taken him by surprise. “No?”

  “Definitely not. Because then I won’t be forced to sacrifice my virtue and might feel obligated to leave.”

  Her clear amusement drew a smile from him. “I gather you don’t want to leave?”

  “Not in the least.”

  “You’re willing to sacrifice your virtue?”

  “Well…if you insist.” She drew him into the soft heat of her embrace. “Please insist,” she whispered a
gainst his mouth.

  “In that case, I rescind my rescission and insist that you let me have my wicked way with you.” He nibbled at her lower lip. “Most definitely insist.”

  She released her breath in an exaggerated sigh. “Since I have no other choice, I’m all yours. But I expect you to keep your promise and be wicked with me. Very, very wicked.”

  He swept a hand along her cheek again, then lower. God, her skin was like satin. “Whatever I want?”

  “If you need a few suggestions, I’m happy to provide them.”

  “I think I have it covered,” he informed her gravely. “But if there’s anything that will make your sacrifice more bearable, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

  She slanted him a sparkling look. “Perhaps another kiss will help me tolerate it a little better?”

  “A kiss like this…?”

  He took her mouth again, allowing his passion to slip his control ever so slightly. She sighed in appreciation and her lips parted, surrendering to him, before matching him kiss for kiss.

  “It’s different this time, isn’t it?” she asked him.

  He tucked a silky swathe of hair behind her ear. “Different how?”

  She regarded him with unusual gravity and all the while her hands fluttered across him like butterflies. They constantly touched and stroked, anchoring him to her in some indefinable, yet permanent manner. “The first time we made love we were children and I was pretending to be someone I wasn’t,” she explained. “The second time you thought I was someone I wasn’t. But this time…”

  He understood then. “It’s real. It’s honest. You know who I am and I know who you are.”

  She nodded. “I like it better this way.”

  “So do I.”

  And he did. It added a deeper dimension to their lovemaking. Strengthened the connection between them. Unable to resist, he eased the soft cotton of her nightgown from her shoulders only to find even softer skin beneath, pliant and warm and responsive. He traced her curves, familiarizing himself with the subtle changes motherhood had wrought.

  Even that bound them together, a deep, irreversible connection he couldn’t break even if he felt so inclined. They’d created a child together, would always be linked through their daughter. For the rest of their lives they’d have that in common. And if they were fortunate, Noelle would only be the start.

  Their mouths collided again, more urgently this time, and the mattress cushioned their tumble, their arms and legs entwining, clinging with a growing urgency. A prelude to what was to come. Without the least trace of uncertainty or artifice, she broke free and came up on her knees. With a grace she’d possessed even as an untried teen, she swept her nightgown up and over her head and allowed it to drift to the floor. She continued to kneel before him, utterly vulnerable in her nudity and in the unstinting way she gifted herself to him. That openness and generosity of spirit was such an innate part of her.

  And it never failed to impress the hell out of him.

  The bedside lamp cast a gentle glow across her, sweeping over the fullness of her breasts before sliding coyly into the shadowed juncture of her thighs. Her skin made him think of virginal snow, yet offered the vibrancy of new life. And he wanted her. All of what she offered. Wanted her more than he thought possible.

  She represented everything he wasn’t. Everything he lacked. She was the hope of an everlasting spring who’d somehow invaded the dark desolation of winter. She was Persephone, surrendering to Hades.

  “Stop,” she murmured. He jerked back, steeling himself to let her go, no matter how difficult. She sighed, reached for him, drew him closer and enclosed him in warmth. “I don’t mean stop touching me. I mean stop thinking. Stop analyzing. Just let go and feel, Justice.”

  “I don’t think I can do anything else,” he admitted. Or maybe it was a confession. “Not with you.”

  Gently, tenderly, he wrapped himself around her and kissed her with a passion that left her gasping for breath. Desire brought heat storming across her skin, tinting the paleness with the soft flush of need. He cupped her breast, took the tip in his mouth and anointed it with tongue and teeth. He could feel the pounding of her heart against his cheek and the soft moan that shuddered from her lungs, a moan that carried his name.

  She shifted against him, her legs parting, hips lifting and meshing with his. He’d wanted to take his time, to reacquaint himself with every inch of her. “Next time,” he promised, though he had no idea if she understood.

  Or maybe she did because she laughed. “Okay, next time we’ll go slow. But not now. Now I want all of you. Fast.”

  She flowed around him, gripping and stroking, taking, then giving. His hands tripped across trembling thighs, cupping the silky backs and angling them upward. Then he sank into her soft, fluid warmth. Her moans turned to sobs, frantic and pleading, and he drove into her, desperate to drive her to peak. To please her. Satisfy her in every way possible.

  He saw it in her eyes an instant before she climaxed, right before he followed her over the top. The brilliant desire. The burgeoning. And he saw something else. Something that threatened to destroy him. In those stunning green eyes he saw the one thing he’d never trusted. Never dared believe in.

  He saw love.

  Eight

  Oh, no. What had she done?

  Daisy closed her eyes and burrowed against Justice, hiding her expression from him. Too fast and too soon, came the helpless thought.

  This time round she’d planned to take their relationship at a slow, steady clip, instead of with her usual exuberance. This time she’d hoped to allow their feelings time to develop and mature slowly. Fully. To grow at a reasonable pace that encompassed the intellectual and rational, rather than just the emotional. To reach the point where they could make a commitment to one another on every level, not just a sexual one.

  She suppressed a tearful laugh. So much for that plan. It hadn’t even lasted twenty-four short hours before she’d flung herself into Justice’s arms and bed, just as she had every other time she’d been within kissing distance of the man. And why? Because it was the one place where they’d always been in perfect accord. The place where she hoped their relationship could take seed and flower into something deeper and more meaningful.

  But in order for that seed to flourish, it meant Justice would have to make an emotional commitment to her. And at this point, she didn’t know whether he even recognized that he possessed emotions. She’d seen them, been stunned by the depths of them—when they’d made love. When he held his daughter. On rare, bittersweet occasions when she caught him looking at her.

  But considering the depth of his disconnect, she doubted he’d made the connection. Maybe if he managed to get his robots up and running they could explain it to him. Of course, he probably wouldn’t believe them. He’d probably think they still weren’t working right, and dismantle them in order to repurpose the parts for an Emo model X-Trillion and Two.

  “Daisy?” he murmured. “Are you all right?”

  “Not really.” She needed to distract him, find a way to disguise how fast and hard she’d tumbled. To give him the time he would need to consider and analyze and explain away the emotions that locked them together over time and circumstance, before surrendering to the inevitable. She forced a smile to her lips and peeked up at him, forcing a teasing tone to her voice. “I’m a little confused about one of the sub clauses to your third condition. Perhaps if you explained it to me in a bit more detail?”

  To her delight, he chuckled, more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. “Which sub clause didn’t you understand?” He slid his hand along her leg until he wandered onto territory blessed by soft, feminine warmth. “This clause…?”

  “That’s one.” She returned the favor, stroking her hand along the length of him, a territory neither soft nor feminine. “And I do believe this is another.”

  “Ah. Now that particular clause I can explain in explicit detail.”

  She smiled, keeping her tone
light, though her jumbled emotions spilled recklessly free, refusing any attempts at restraint. “I’d like that,” she told him. “I’d like that very much.”

  First thing the next morning, Daisy made a firm promise to herself that she’d take her relationship with Justice at a slower, more decorous pace. That she’d hide her feelings from him until he’d had time to assimilate or analyze or cogitate or whatever mad scientists did in order to reach their ridiculous conclusions regarding issues that should be perfectly straightforward and obvious.

  Like love.

  Of course, her vow lasted right up until he took her into his arms the next night. This time he swept her off to her upstairs bedroom. Once there, clothed only in honesty, her true feelings escaped her ability to control. Unbidden and unhidden, they exploded from her, as clear and brilliant as sunlight, while Justice’s remained cloaked in shadows. And over the subsequent nights they spent in her bed, Daisy continued to hope he’d eventually surrender to his feelings instead of hiding behind his rationality and logic and the darkness of past memories. But instead, he left her bed each morning to return to his underground lair before the first rays of daylight dared penetrate the room.

  In the meantime, she arranged for the cleaning crew to scrub the house from top to bottom. As promised, Justice requested his uncle run a complete housewide diagnostic scan. Not that it worked as planned. No sooner had the cleaners departed than Pretorius came online, his voice booming through the speakers.

  “Justice? Justice! Red alert. One of the units has gone off the grid. I need a head count right away.”

  “Everything’s fine, Pretorius,” came Justice’s calm response. “I’m in the kitchen with Aggie, Daisy and Noelle.”

  “There’s still one missing,” Pretorius shot back, then couldn’t prevent himself from dipping into sarcasm. “Or have you forgotten how to count?”

  “Would you like a nice cup of hot tea?” Aggie asked in a motherly voice. “You sound upset.”

  “No, I would not like some hot tea,” Pretorius snapped. “I want to know where the other one is. The troublemaker. She’s missing.”